W Magazine (Dec.1995)

Inside the Second Glamorous Miller Wedding This Year

Few sister acts have captured the imagination here and abroad as have the three beautiful, fine-boned Miller sisters, Pia, Marie-Chantal and Alexandra, the daughters of an exquisitely chic mother, Chantal Miller of Ecuadorean blood, and Robert Warren Miller, the international duty-free tycoon. Not only are the girls ravishing, but, despite their great good looks and wealth, they remain unspoiled and down-to-earth. And all three have made dazzling love matches. In a ceremony in Bali, several years ago, Pia married handsome Christopher Getty of the oil-fortune Gettys. They have one tiny daughter and are expecting their second child. In a royal wedding ceremony at the Greek Cathedral in London in July, the second daughter, Marie-Chantal, married also-handsome Crown Prince Pavlos of Greece with the Queen of England and every royal family in Europe in attendance. The attendant festivities were so lavishly beautiful and done with such taste that they were the talk of Europe and the United States, never with better reason.

Recently, in a glorious ceremony at St. Ignatius Loyola Church on New York's Park Avenue, the youngest of the gorgeous trio, Alexandra, married Prince Alexandre Egon von und zu Furstenberg, the also-handsome son of Prince Egon von und zu Furstenberg, himself the son of an Austrian nobleman and an Agnelli heiress, and Diane Von Furstenberg, the highly successful fashion designer. Queen Anne-Marie of Greece, in a black suit trimmed in pink and a black hat with a saucy pink rose, sat in the front pew of the bride's side, and Gianni Agnelli, the groom's great-uncle and Italy's foremost captain of industry (Fiat and all that), sat in the front pew of the groom's side of the church. Who could dare ask for anything more?

Since this was a wedding of glamour and magnitude-there were 650 guests-a crowd gathered outside to watch the arrivals descend from their limousines as white-jacketed valets held white golf umbrellas over the their heads, the better to protect fancy hairdos-and fancier hats-and gray toppers and morning coats. Even the dozens of security guards, who kept the photographers at bay, wore morning coats. Chantal Miller is a perfectionist, and it shows in everything she touches. The day was warm, so the few raindrops didn't really matter. Moreover, a rainshower on a wedding day is said to be a harbinger of fertility-so stand back.

Robert Isabell, the famous and foremost designer and producer of special events alive today (hello there, Robert!), working hand in hand with Chantal Miller, as they did at Marie-Chantal's royal wedding London, was responsible for setting the scene at the magnificent gold-domed and coffered church. A white-tented porte-cochere shielded the guests ascending the steps whose balustrades were festooned with huge urns of maidenhair ferns.

Inside the foyer, palms and more ferns framed the dramatic entrances to the 150-foot-long nave. The intoxicating scent of thousands upon thousands of tube roses planted in gold-leaf urns filled the air. A royal burgundy carpet ran the entire length of the aisle and up the steps to the altar, where the gardenias interspersed with stephanotis covered the railing. The romantic lighting spotlighted both the altar and the majestic organ and, of course, the beautiful couple, Alexandra looking like a fairy princess, in off-the-shoulder white satin with a bouffant skirt and a long white tulle veil falling and floating from a diamond diadem, all the work of Karl Lagerfeld for Chanel. Lagerfeld also designed the bride's mother's Chanel mauve suit and matching hat, but the tiny sable scarf hugging her throat was her own idea.

The Apostolic Nuncio, Archbishop Renato Martino performed the ceremony and officiated at the nuptial mass, the couple's friend Rachel Peters and the bride's sister Pia Getty both spoke, and the choir was, well, heavenly.

Filling every pew in the church were such as the groom's proud mother, Diane, in a turban and glittering earrings, the groom's father Egon, wreathed in smiles and a moring coat, the groom's paternal grandmother, Countess Clara Agnelli von und zu Furstenberg Nuvoletti, the groom's aunt Princess Ira, the groom's red-headed sister, Tatiana, in pink satin with jeweled butterflies in her hair, and the groom's maternal grandmother, Mrs. Lily Halfin, and the aforementioned Gianni Agnelli. On the bride's side were the bride's father and mother, Prince and Princess Pavlos (Marie-Chantal) of Greece, and, of course, Queen Anne-Marie of Greece.

Also in the front pew were family friend Barry Diller, Egon's present wife, Lynn; sons, Hubertus and Christopher; Princess Irene of Greece in gray and silver suit; Princess Alexia of Greece; beautiful Prince Nikolaos of Greece, and Pia and Christopher Getty.

Scattered about were such nears and dears as Priscilla and Christopher Whittle; Leah Boutros-Ghali, wife of the secretary general of the United Nations; Lily Safra, lovely in a pale blue suit and matching hat; Cecile and Ezra Zilkha; Marisa Berenson, in a big black velvet beret; Viscount and Viscountess Rothermere; various Schwarzenbergs; Carroll Petrie; Barbara Walters; Alexander Papamarkou; Peter John and Karen Goulandris; Fernands Niven, Daphne and Spyros Niarchos; Princess Firyal of Jordan; Veronica Hearst; Deeda and Bill Blair; Serena and Samantha Boardman; Betsy Bloomingdale; Henry Buhl; Juan-Esteban and Gonzalo Ganoza; Prince and Princess Alexander Romanoff, and other too fabulous to mention.

After all that, guests motored out to Old Westbury Gardens on Long Island, the gracious former Phipps estate, for the wedding luncheon. They drove through a rainstorm, but then the skies cleared, the sun came out and so did a beautiful double rainbow. Someone said that was another sign of fertility, but you know how people exaggerate. Here again, Isabell worked his magic in two huge tents built especially for the party. Great urns holding autumnal branches and berries led up to the Phipps English-style manor house where champagne was served on the south porch while two harpists and a flutist serenaded the gathered hundreds.

While the Miller and von Furstenberg families posed for their formal portraits in the mansion's ballroom, everyone else walked through a marquee tent carpeted in sisal, down long garden steps, around a pond and across a sumptuous green meadow to the cocktail tent, gasp, gasp, a vast, elegant space with a moss green fabric ceiling, green and gold draperies and 10-foot-high windows overlooking hills and fields. There was wicker garden furniture with moss green cushions and goldenrod silk pillows, and the piece-de-resistance was the hundreds and hundreds of yards of two-foot-thick autumnal garlands of leaves, berries and hydrangea blossoms festooned across the ceiling and everywhere else you looked. What a glorious sight-and this was only the beginning.

From the cocktail tent it was on to the luncheon tent via a wondrously scaled walkway of extravagant width and elegance, a grand finale to Isabell's genius. One entered on the upper level of a great two-tiered oval space with a 13-foot-high Palladian windows framing a spectacular vista from a tent swathed in yellow silk and still garlands. The rear walls of the tent were covered from floor to ceiling in autumn leaves, and the floors were covered in hand-painted corktile with an oak leaf design reminiscent of the manor house's heritage. The tables were covered in golden linen with Irish linen overcloths, and lunch was served on silver plates. Each table had a whit and gold porcelain centerpiece filled with autumn fruit and gardenias. This simple elegance equaled the personal style of Chantal Miller's own homes all over the world.

The glamour capitals of Europe are the usual setting for grand balls given in grand places by grand people. Motivated and moneyed Europeans have the venues for it, palaces and chateaux and schlosses hundreds of years old, dripping in history and beauty, many of them still in private hands, some even rentable to Americans and others. But, if you cannot find quite the place you want, here or abroad, suitable for an all-out soiree, you can-given imagination, talent, and, yes, money-build a vast ballroom of your own.

This is exactly what Chantal Miller did in New York for the pre-wedding "Alexander Ball" given in honor of the marriage two days before the ceremony, collaborating again with Robert Isabell, New York's master designer and producer of dazzling events. No one who was present-and everyone was dying to be-will ever forget the sight and the spectacle.

The "Alexander Ball" (a fitting title as the bride and groom are both called Alex) began at dusk, and it was Alexandra herself who chose the theme of the evening. As soon as she saw the site at Battery Park with its magnificent view overlooking New York Harbor, she was reminded of her native Hong Kong and decided the look of the ball should be based on Imperial China. That's all her mummy and Isabell needed to hear.

The 700 guests arrived via a candlelight promenade/driveway to enter a meandering tented passageway covered from floor to ceiling in regal red and twinkling with hundreds of Chinese festival lanterns. A steel ban dressed in Fellini-gone-Chinese fashion played along the walkway. Located at the far end of this enchantment, the enormous cocktail tent appeared as if by magic, draped in what seemed like miles and miles of imperial golden satin.

Situated at the water's edge, the western side of the structure was one enormous bank of floor-to-ceiling windows, the better to see the Statue of Liberty, Ellis Island and a glistening crescent moon. Even the waters below the tent were lighted to enhance the scene. That Robert Isabell!

Inside, the tent was festooned with sparkling lanterns practically as far as the eye could see and guests mingled in what was a forest of 25-foot lacy, bamboo trees planted in gold-leaf containers. The multitiered floor was covered in a golden carpet, and, for the guests' comfort, there were wicker sofas and chairs cushioned in red and gold silk, red and gold being the colors of Imperial China-but you knew that.

After going through the receiving line to congratulate the handsome couple and their parents, everyone flew to the windows to watch the extraordinary fireworks display directed by Michael Laykin who flew form London to marry the pyrotechnics (produced by the fireworks-meisters, the family Grucci) to classical music. Lots of ooohhhs and aaahhhhhs.

After a Chinese gong, resounding enough to be heard in Hong Kong, announced dinner, an array of exotically costumed and Herculean-sized figures led the procession of guests through a 400-foot long walkway swathed in red fabric and carpeted in the same brilliant color. Hanging overhead were more hundreds of lanterns. God help anyone else who needed a Chinese lantern that night, Robert Isabell had cornered the world market.

At the end of the walkway an enormous portal leading into the dinner tent, a two-story, 40-foot-wide teahouse, a monumental recreation of the Throne Room from the Imperial City of then-Peking. After the gasping and the swooning, guests were entranced, staring at the four-tiered ceiling decorated with handpainted beams and rust fabric stenciled in gold designs. The massive entry was filled with red and gold Chinese divans covered in turquoise and yellow satin pillows. Here and in the teahouse, there were arrangements of thousands of thousands of tiny yellow orchids soaring 10-feet high from golden containers. It seems, Robert Isabell also cornered the tiny yellow orchids market.

In the dining area, mimes, acrobats and musicians on stilts performed during dinner. The floor, designed by Isabell, was paved with hand-painted cork tiles inspired by Chinese motifs and centered with a five-clawed dragon. Lesser beings had to decorate with four clawed beasts-but you knew that, too.

The walls of the dinner tent were lined with red velvet and framed with gold-leaf bamboo latticework. Tables were covered in yellow silk printed in a gold lattice pattern and lighted form below to shimmer in a soft-yellow glow. On the tabletops, celadon vases held persimmons, pomegranates, poppies, roses and miniature golden apples. The golden service plates were topped with red glass dinner plates. The red bamboo chairs were covered in red velvet. As for the dance floor, it was hand-painted and ornamented with red, blue and yellow Chinese designs with gold Chinese motifs, and in the center, an enormous five-clawed dragon invited dancers to frolic.

As for the entertainment, Doc Scantlin and his Imperial Palms Orchestra played nostalgic tunes-the bride and groom had the first dance to "Someone to Watch Over Me"-and then the inimitable deejay Tom Finn took over and the entire room flew to the floor. At two in the morning, disco diva Crystal Waters took to the stage and later, Jose Alberto and his Latin All Stars sent out the salsa, followed by more Tom Finn until five or so in the morning.

The bride was beautiful in Oscar de la Renta's long ice-blue satin halter dress, draped in the back and with an Empire bodice embroidered in diamantes. As for the mother of the bride, she wore Chanel's pale yellow satin with a long-sleeved fitted bodice with small bows at the back. Quelle chic.